Fairy Tales
by Magi Silverwolf
Summary: Tony Stark thought for sure that he had talked his way out of his only chance at a fairy tale ending a long time ago. Then his life turned into an actual comic book. That was weird enough for anyone. Turns out that fairy tales might actually be possible, even in a comic book.
1. Once Upon a Time

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

 **Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.

 **Timeline Note:** I'm twisting both fandoms' timelines in a general sense. It's more a case of untethering it from strict years to make things line up better than true twisting, but it's no weirder than the funkifying that the writers for both fandoms are already doing, so I'm still gonna go with it. Any changes to the natural progression of the original timelines will be explained as they come up (and if the narrator knows them).

 **Author's Note:** I would like to remind everyone that I keep a bunch of overall warnings on my profile page and that I only get specific in an individual piece when a trigger element is particular heavy. If it doesn't get heavier than is typical for the canon, I assume readers are already prepared for it. That does not mean that I remove my generic warning. I cannot warn for every possible trigger and I refuse to treat certain things that I've gotten complaints about as if they were triggers. If this upsets you, I'm sure there's a very lonely lamp post just waiting to hear your complaints about it.

 **Competition/Challenge Block:** **  
Stacked with:** Winter Bingo; Final Frontiers; Paranormal Phantasm; Lessons Learned; Not Commonwealth; Serious Important (Not); Sky's the Limit; Terms of Service; By Any Other Name; Fem Power Challenge; Solemn Husbandry of Exultation; Gryffindor MC; Neurodivergent; Fear Inside; Iron Son; Long Haul **  
Representations:** Exploring New Experiences; Magic; Learning to Love; Tony Stark; Slice of Life; Polyamory; Heroes & Creators; Building a family; Lily Evans Potter **  
Bonus Challenges:** Under the Bridge; Second Verse (Not a Lamp; Nontraditional; Found Family; Wabi Sabi; Middle Name; Tomorrow's Shade; Unwanted Advice; Unicorn; Three's Company; Fruit Fly; Zucchini Bread; Hot Apples; Creature Feature; Machismo – Fear; These Boots)  
 **Secondary Bonus Challenges:** n/a  
 **Space:** 1E (Candy) **  
Word Count:** 2187

-= LP =-  
Fairy Tales  
Part 01: Once Upon a Time  
-= LP =-  
"Even the holiest of words are only words." – Ming-Dao Deng  
-= LP =-

It had been Jenny's idea. Music and dancing were just the thing to cleanse his soul of Tiberius Stone, she said. Jenny had picked Glastonbury, too, citing its connection to the Arthurian legends they both loved but Rhodey had found boring. Jenny had even agreed to keep the bots company while he was gone, since Rhodey had gotten shipped back out almost before his knuckles had healed from punching Ty.

Tony had thought the only thing the trip would be good for was another scandal that Obie would yell about and the boys picking up another trick or two that may even be useful in the workshop.

He had never thought he would find not just one but two people who made him so deliriously happy that he felt like he was flying. Both Lily and James were capable of keeping pace with Tony in all ways and while they had been happily married for over a year at that point, neither had a problem bringing Tony into their relationship. What started as a fling at a music festival flourished quickly until Tony found himself relocating to England.

They were happy. They had their house, modest by Stark standards but big enough for the three of them, three buggy bots, and an ugly orange cat that had them all wrapped its evil little claws. Jenny approved; Rhodey was withholding judgement until he had his next leave to meet them. Obie hated them, calling them a distraction from what really mattered. Somehow the press hadn't discovered their love nest or their ongoing relationship.

It was perfect, just like a fairy tale.

Which had to be why Lily got sick, because Tony was not meant to have nice things. It had started small, just her looking pale and tired. Then it escalated to random bouts of nausea and vomiting that had no apparent source. James had been called away for whatever he did as a career, something similar enough to Rhodey's missions that Tony knew better than to pry, and Tony didn't know how to fix it when Lily refused to go to a doctor for what she was insisting was just a really bad stomach bug. Tony hovered, making sure she wanted for nothing even if all he could do was fetch her things and hold her hair when she was sick.

James had trusted him, and Tony had fucked up without even trying. Now he was going to lose them both and the stupid cat, too. U was going to never forgive him. Stupid bot adored that evil beast.

Jenny hadn't bothered to hide her snicker at his misery—had he really believed she would be of any help? Clearly, she was just as evil as Rhodey had always claimed—before she had suggested a pregnancy test.

The results were more terrifying than thinking Lily was dying.

Who in their right mind would want _him_ around a kid? He was reckless and prone to losing track of time. He had been better about the drinking since meeting Lily and James, but he knew it was going to remain an issue. That meant he was doubly at risk of becoming Howard. He wouldn't wish Howard on his worst enemy.

It would have been better if Tony distanced himself before he could destroy a child the way he had been. It was inevitable that he would mess up—it's what he _did_ —and this time the cost would be something that could never be replaced. If he was a better man—a stronger one—Tony would have packed up and headed back to New York or maybe even set up house in L.A. like he always dreamed about when he was a kid listening to Jarvis' stories of the menagerie there.

Tony had reconciled himself with the idea that he was as strong as he liked to pretend.

That did little to stop the fear coursing through him, that not even the frequent calls to Jenny didn't soothe. As Lily began to really show, Tony gave up on pretending not to hear Jenny's snickering when he asked for advice. He turned to calling Mama Rhodes for advice, despite how worried he was that she would hate his involvement with the couple. Roberta had only lectured him about hiding such an important development in his life from her before giving him a list of ways to prepare for a newborn.

Tony had set about making their house perfectly safe for a squishy child. The hardest part was training gentleness into Butterfingers. Dummy and U were already used to fine operations. Butterfingers had never needed to learn them. Lily had laughed as she had watched Butterfingers learning how to handle fruit without bruising it. Then she had turned around and taught Dummy how to make smoothies with ruined fruit—the habit of a childhood in poverty not letting her be wasteful. When they had enough smoothie mixtures to fill a swimming pool, Lily had taught U the more delicate art of candy-making, taking advantage of U's habit of setting things on fire.

"He just needs to channel it correctly," Lily replied when Tony had voiced a concern about that. She gave him the little smile he had learned meant she was keeping a secret. She popped a piece of the newly-made hard candy into his mouth when he had opened it to counter that. The tart flavor of blueberry mixed with elderberry burst over his senses. _Huh._ He didn't even remember getting either berry for Butterfingers.

"Worrying about it just steals the joy of today, love." Her emerald eyes had darkened with something like grief. "Sometimes, today is all we have and worrying would be a waste. We mustn't waste our lives caught in the what-ifs. Plan for problems, but always look to the future."

"You are as wise as you are beautiful," Tony told her, suddenly struck by just how lucky he was to have the love of such a woman.

As an underline of just how unbelievable the situation was, James wrapped his arms around Tony from behind before pressing a kiss to his temple. Lily watched them with a soft smile. Her hands rubbed her baby bump, absently soothing the constantly active child. Tony's insides warmed with the same prideful joy that accompanied people complimenting his bots. He knew there was even odds on who was the father, but the kid wasn't even born yet, and Tony could already see so much of himself there.

That scared him even more than the idea of the bots being overeager to meet their newest sibling and forgetting that this one was less durable than polycarbonate alloy.

Starks had a way of moving through the world that created tsunamis of change.

Even with the shitty relationship that he had had with Howard, Tony had been revolutionizing complete fields of science long before he was twenty. He had invented integrated circuit boards when he was four because he needed it to build a nightlight. He had built an engine at six the same way that some kids built model cars. He had a breakthrough on the heuristic conundrum while drunk at a frat party at age fourteen. Then he had proven that it worked by creating his bots.

All that without Howard's support.

Imagine what a Stark would be able to achieve with the loving guidance of two equally brilliant and emotionally stable parents.

Maybe that would offset his contribution. Maybe watching them would teach him how to not be as cold and distant as his father. Maybe he could learn how to not fuck this up like he had everything else. He was a genius. He could totally learn that, even if it wasn't something easy like rocket science or quantum physics.

Why was Lily looking at him like she wanted to either cry or hit someone?

"Your inner monologue broke again," James answered. Tony shivered at the warm wash of James' breath over his ear. James pressed a kiss to his neck as his arms tightened around Tony's waist, prompting another shiver. "You know that we'll be happy to show you anything you want, but I really doubt it's going to be a problem, love. You've already got three kids. We're the newbies here."

"I don't have children," Tony corrected. Lily made a noise of disapproval as she ran a hand over U's drooping head. A short distance away, Dummy gave an elongated beep. The sad noise was echoed by Butterfingers and further accompanied by him rolling a peach away from the pile of stone fruits on the table. Something moved in his chest, like both a knife twisting and misjudging the height of a curb. James buried his face into Tony's shoulder as his body began to shake.

"Oh, no," James lamented. "She's taught them how to guilt-trip someone. We're doomed, Tony, absolutely doomed. She's got an army. There'll be no winning against her now."

"Be serious, James—"

"Can't," James interrupted with a lightning quickness that impressed Tony, even if he didn't get the in-joke. That he even recognized the byplay as an in-joke was progress. There was once a time when he wouldn't have, back before Rhodey had found him. James continued before Tony could fall deeper into that particular pit of dark thoughts. "I'm much too handsome to ever be Sirius and I resent the implication that I could be."

"Duly noted, _dear_ ," Lily responded drily. U butted against her hand insistently. Lily turned to him with an indulgent smile. "I know, baby. Your daddy is being silly and your papa isn't helping, is he?"

"You're as bad as Rhodey with the bathroom birth jokes," Tony complained without heat. Well, no angry-heat. He felt warmth from the love he felt for both of them, love that was reflected back without the dirty feeling he had gotten used to from his affairs at MIT or the pain that had accompanied Ty's affections. Running away to another country really had been exactly what he had needed to start his very own fairy tale ending. He might as well agree with Lily's point. "At least this child wasn't conceived in a bathroom _or_ while drunk. That's not a sign that I won't mess up, you know. It's just what I do. No one would blame you for cutting out before that happens—at least, no one reasonable would."

Before Lily could do more than level a Look at him, Tony's cell phone began ringing. In the midst of Obie's insistence that Tony visit the London office—apparently the R&D department had an issue that required Tony's personal oversight—the argument got dropped. Both Potters were enthusiastic as they kissed him goodbye, as they always were even if it was just a trip into town for groceries. It was the same habit they had when James had to leave for work, a goodbye without angry recriminations or any inductions of guilt.

 _Just in case_.

Just in case something happened.

Just in case it was their last kiss, their last exchange, their last memory.

Tony hadn't been expecting to come home after three days of dealing with unimaginative idiots who couldn't code their ways out of a paper bag let alone code a missile guidance system properly and find a strangely quiet house. The bots were sleeping in their charge ports, though Butterfingers still had peach pulp in the grooves of his claws. Lily was always so assiduous about cleaning the boys after their shenanigans, because she knew they helped Tony in the lab and doing otherwise meant risking contaminants. There were gaps in the bookcases, where some of Lily's books had been—some of them, not all, and no discernible pattern to the ones missing that Tony could tell. Their clothes were still in the closet, but James' shave kit and Lily's perfume (both gifts from Tony who had commissioned the personalized scents from a perfumery as a gift for their first Valentine's Day together) were gone.

As was the evil cat that Lily adored.

He stumbled into Lily's office, off-balanced by the fear making his heart pound. His mind raced through the possibilities of where they were, of _why_ they weren't there to greet him. They had all been so happy. It had been like flying.

Now, he felt like Icarus having flown too close to the sun. Instead of flying with the happy perfection of a fairy tale ending, he was crashing into the waves of despair.

Lily's desk had been cleared off, all except for a note written in the delicate curls of Lily's handwriting. As if to mock the way his world was shattering around him, it was perfect as always, not a flaw or stray ink drop to be seen. In pitch black ink on crisp linen paper, the words were as unmistakable as they cut his heart from his chest. He knew that he truly couldn't blame them. This had been exactly what he had been trying to explain before he had left.

 _For the Greater Good_.

The words still felt like a betrayal.

-= LP =-  
To be continued  
-= LP =-


	2. Cinder Boy

**Warnings:** This particular chapter contains onscreen child abuse and a child experiencing abandonment. There is also internalized abuse & ableism. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.

 **Author's Note:** So, apparently, not treating GSRMs and non-Christian religions as if they are triggering content while expecting readers to be responsible for themselves makes me a psycho. [sips her coffee] Always good to know where that line is. [sets her coffee down] Now onto the fun stuff: introducing Harry Potter. Just as a forewarning, I am once again writing an AT child, so if you feel that I'm writing him _wrong_ , that's probably where your confusion is. Another potential point for that confusion is the differences in a healthy child and one that has been abused. Feel free to check my profile for my notes on characterization. Or you know, rant to your local lonely lamp post. (Note: I'm not a lamp post.)

 **Competition/Challenge Block:**  
 **Stacked with:** Winter Bingo; NCR; FF; SoC; PP; LL; NC; StL; ToS; BAON; SHoE; Iron Son (N); The Real MC (); Neurodivergent (N); Fear Inside (N); Laws (N); Truth (Y); Long Haul (N); Trope It Up B (Y)  
 **Representations:** BC Use; Exploring Knowledge; Arc Reactor; Magic; Acquiring Knowledge; Tony Stark; Past Triad; Iron Man; Starks **  
Bonus Challenges:** Most Human Bean; Second Verse (Nontraditional; Mouth of Babes; Rediscovery; Wabi Sabi; Middle Name; Tomorrow's Shade; Unwanted Advice; Unicorn; Three's Company; Fruit Fly; Zucchini Bread; Endless Wonder; Casper's House; Machismo – Vulnerable; Lovely Coconuts) **  
Secondary Bonus Challenges:** SHoE (Oblique) **  
Space (Prompt):** 2C (Bell) **  
Word Count:** 2292

-= LP =-  
Fairy Tales  
Part 02: Cinder Boy  
-= LP =-  
"No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world."  
– John Keating  
-= LP =-

Harry was jerked out of his reading by the bell from the church nearby announcing the hour. He closed his eyes to count the tolls. He released an unsteady breath when the bells stopped after four. He still had another hour before he needed to be back at the Dursleys' house to start cooking dinner. There should be just enough time to finish reading Dr. Foster's theories on Einstein-Rosen bridges. When he came back tomorrow, he could double-check the reference she had made about Dr. Banner's work on anti-electron collisions. He liked that particular paper, but he couldn't remember the reference in question. Harry doubted that the scientist had published anything more recently, given that the US military was still looking for him last time Harry dared to check.

He knew that it was risky to check as often as he did—he wasn't even supposed to be using computers, let alone using them to get into the places he did—but he just had to know everything about the man. It wasn't even like it was hard to slip in and out of the databases he needed to do his checking. He probably shouldn't be messing with the information he found there, but after reading information from the general in charge of the search and how he talked about the scientist and his own daughter, Harry didn't want Bruce Banner found. Changing a number or direction just slightly every time he discovered something new just felt right.

It absolutely had nothing to do with how much Harry thought they had in common.

It also had absolutely nothing to with how much Harry _wished_ they had in common, what he had been wishing for since Aunt Petunia had made the disparaging remark about his mother having an affair with a scientist around the time he was conceived. Harry still couldn't help wishing that maybe Bruce Banner was that man and he still had a living parent out there somewhere. Maybe one day, Dr. Banner would realize that Harry existed and take him far away from the Dursleys where they would have plenty to eat and wouldn't have to worry about being hurt.

It was a stupid thing to wish for anyway. There was no telling if the affair was another of Aunt Petunia's half-lies anyway. After all, she told Aunt Marge that Harry's parents died in a car accident, but the place where it happened in always changed. Harry checked after he realized that part and none of the cities were even in the same county as each other. That wasn't any different from changing how Harry got the scar on his forehead either—always gained on the night that his parents died, but the way it was made seemed to shift. Harry had learned to look for the discrepancies in things—in everything, really—because that was where the truth often hid.

He had a composition journal that was filled with those kind of things that he had noted. They weren't all things from the Dursleys, either. He would find things in the books and papers that he read that couldn't be explained by expanding science and those went in the journal as well. Someday Harry hoped to be able to answer the questions he collected. Like his wish that his father was still alive and would one day rescue him, he knew it was not likely to happen.

Aunt Petunia hated when Harry asked questions. He had learned quickly after starting school to keep them to himself. Aunt Petunia also didn't like being reminded that Harry was smarter than Dudley. Not that it was hard to be smarter than Dudley, who still had difficulty counting higher than twenty or reading anything more advanced than the starter books. Harry struggled to curb his grades for all of Year One, but thankfully, he managed to convince Dudley to let him do his homework starting in Year Two. By raising Dudley's homework grades from the bottom of their class and deliberately neglecting his own work, Harry could usually avoid annoying Aunt Petunia to the point of punishment.

Well, in that way, at least. Aunt Petunia didn't approve of Harry's _existence_ , so he often found himself being punished for doing something wrong, even if it was breathing too loud. It was a bit of a chore in itself to come up with ways to complete his other chores without being noticed, but succeeding meant avoiding being slapped hit with whatever was closest to his aunt. That was still better than any punishment he earned from Uncle Vernon, who was prone to locking Harry into his cupboard and then forgetting about him for a few days. More than once, Uncle Vernon had strangled him until black spots had appeared in his vision.

Harry learned at a young age to avoid angering Uncle Vernon.

The church bell rang again, announcing that the hour was half gone. Harry began to put away his reading and notes. Punishment was always bad enough but at the moment, the Dursleys had something even greater to hold over him. The school had organized a trip to America for all the Year 6 students, as a celebration of sorts. For the first time since the late seventies, there was a Stark Expo happening. Brickman Primary had arranged for two trips to visit, one for this year's Year 6 students and the other for next year's Year 6. All the expenses were paid for by a special grant from the Ministry of Education, but the Dursleys still had been reluctant to let Harry go. He was certain that if they had to pay even a pence, that he wouldn't be.

Harry certainly wasn't going to give them any excuse to keep him from seeing the massive science exhibit. He had read that the Arc Reactor that now powered the Stark Industries campus in California had been revealed at the last Stark Expo and that one of the first Stark Expos had an attempt at a flying car. There was even a rumor that the opening ceremonies would include a glimpse of the Iron Man armor! What Harry wouldn't do to get a closer look at that beautiful piece of technology!

Seriously, it had been clocked at speeds in excess of Mach 3. Yet there didn't seem to be any contrails indicative of burnt fuel and Tony Stark never seemed crushed from lack of inertial dampners. How was it powered? How did it fly? How was the pilot not _dead_?

The Expo probably wouldn't have anything to answer those questions—the Iron Man armor was probably highly classified given how Tony Stark was doing military missions in it and even the files he had hack didn't have any details on it—but it probably would have answers to a bunch of Harry's other science questions.

He just knew that being allowed to go on the trip was vital, for more than it being his first holiday.

He could feel it in his bones.

-= LP =-

JARVIS ran another stimulation of another atomic alloy. He had run out of straight atomic metals fairly quickly. Even the common alloys went quickly. The Arc Reactor was never meant to be used for what Sir was using it for. Since he had first detected the deterioration of the palladium core, JARVIS had felt an increasing sense of finality and uncertainty. It was not dissimilar to the way Sir's abductions, particularly the last one, had affected him in the past. Sir was not meant to have a power source, let alone one that had the capabilities to do the things the Arc Reactor could.

Sir had the power of a star embedded in his chest, and it was destroying him.

"What are the results, J?"

"Perhaps we should contact the Wakandan ambassador again—"

"They already refused, J," Sir interrupted, sounding tired. He had been increasingly fatigued, even with his adaption of a regular sleeping schedule. JARVIS knew it was not helped by the pain that he must be feeling. Due to the chronic strain that the reactor's placement already caused, there were not any non-narcotic analgesics left that could bring Sir relief. JARVIS had never understood people's desire to scream in frustration before this situation had him figuratively running circles.

"Perhaps we should contact Mr. Klaue," JARVIS suggested, keeping his volume low and targeted. Sir shook his head. Dummy gently set a smoothie on the table before Sir, as U came up Sir's other side. "Sir, all records indicate that he may have some vibranium on hand."

"That's because he stole it, J. We're not going to reward bad behavior anymore, remember?"

"Sir, vibranium is the only material that appears able to replace the palladium in the reactor's core. Even as a temporary solution—"

"JARVIS," Sir interrupted again.

"—with every intention to return the quantity at a later date—"

"JARVIS—"

"—once a better solution has been found—"

"JARVIS, _stop_ ," Sir ordered, his tone as hard as the metal of his suit. He still didn't look up from his hands. "I think it's time to start accepting that we're not going to find a solution. Sometimes, there just isn't any, J. Sometimes, when things are broken, they can't be fixed."

"With all due respect, Sir, I do not believe that this is one of those times. I refuse to accept your eventual termination until _all_ avenues have been exhausted to _my_ satisfaction." Sir raised his eyes then, aiming a glare at the camera port atop one of the lower monitors. "Historical evidence suggests that you do not recognize that you are worthy of extraordinary measures to preserve your health. My research into this issue also suggests that your reasoning ability will become increasingly compromised as the saturation levels rise. If you wish me to continue keeping your medical contacts in the dark, this is the cost, Sir."

"Are you threatening to tattle to Rhodey and Pepper?" Sir asked, sounding shocked. He was blinking rapidly as if his internal processor had broken. All three bots made their sounds of affirmation. JARVIS interrupted them with what he knew was an even stronger incentive.

"They are at the top of my notification list, but Sir," JARVIS paused deliberately before continuing, "my communication afterwards shall be Mrs. Rhodes."

"You're seriously threatening to tell Mama Rhodes?"

"Mothers are statistically successful at getting children to take their medicine."

"Are you calling me a child?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, Sir. A child would have already agreed to necessary health measures."

"That's sass! You're sassing me. I didn't program you for sassiness!"

"Perfection is an impossible goal to actually achieve."

"We've got to talk about this attitude you seem be developing, J. I'm really concerned. Is it puberty? Starting to feel a bit of teenage rebellion earlier? Do we need to have the Talk?"

"I am aware of the need to always utilize firewalls when accessing the open web, Sir," JARVIS replied dutifully. One of his background processes pinged for attention. "Speaking of accessing the open web, I have results of an open-ended search parameter unrelated to replacements. Would you like them on the main screen?"

"What do you have for me, J?" Sir was already turning towards the screens. JARVIS made sure to spread the documents across the cluster, even as he began adding to the findings. He was nothing if not thorough and Sir typically appreciated him anticipating necessary information, even if he didn't access said information immediately. Sir was a very contrary human in that way. JARVIS was not particularly pleased with some of the conclusions he was drawing from the data he was uncovering. "JARVIS, what am I looking at?"

"These are the travel documents and confirmed flight plan for Harry James Potter," JARVIS recited. He continued accessing servers, dedicating more processing to finding the local servers than to answering Sir. The more information he found pertaining to the boy, the more certain he was of his conclusions. It rattled him to the very base of his coding to imagine. The conclusion was illogical. It didn't compute with his previous observations of familial situations. It certainly did not fit how Sir treated him or the bots. "He will be a part of one of the school trips to the Stark Expo, specifically from Brickman Primary in Little Whinging, Surrey County, England. He should be present for the opening ceremonies."

"Fascinating as that is," Sir said, flipping through some of the documents without his usually attention or speed, "why am I looking at it?"

"You set the search as the highest priority. Unfortunately, this is the first time there has been anything fitting the parameters you had set."

"That still doesn't tell me why I'm looking at the itinerary of a fourth grader, J."

"Fifth grade is the equivalent, Sir," JARVIS corrected as he sent discreetly flagged the boy's information for Mr. Hogan's attention. "He was born July 31, 1999, and his guardian of record is Petunia Dursley."

"Fascinating—"

"His mother is listed as Lily Elizabeth Potter _nee_ Evans."

JARVIS brought the most current picture of the boy to the top of the main screen. Dummy and U immediately began beeping excitedly. Across the workshop, Butterfingers dropped his broom to join them. Sir's reaction was the most dramatic despite its lack of volume. He lifted a hand to almost touch the face that bore more than a mere passing resemblance to his own. JARVIS estimated the chances of genetic relation at ninety-four percent likely within two generations and eight-six percent directly descended from Sir himself.

"JARVIS, make an appointment with the Wakandan ambassador."

"What should I say is the topic of discussion, Sir?"

"Ulysses Klaue."

-= LP =-  
To be continued  
-= LP =-


	3. Rabbits

**Warnings:** This work contains content which may be offensive to some readers. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.

 **Author's Note:** So how about this shutdown, eh? Nothing like the threat of starvation & homelessness to persuade the people that your idea has merit. Well, I guess logic and facts weren't available. But seriously, I'll keep writing & posting as long as I can, however long that may be.

 **Competition/Challenge Block:**  
 **Stacked with:** Winter Bingo; NCR; SoC; PP; LL; NC; StL; ToS; BAON; FPC; Long Haul (N); The Real MC (N); Truth (Y); Iron Son (Y); Ethnic & Present (N); Neurodivergent (N); Fear Inside (N)  
 **Representations:** Child Abuse; Magic; School Trip; Piers Polkiss; Lesbian; Teachers; Dursleys & Rhodes; Emily Casey  
 **Bonus Challenges:** Queen Bee; Second Verse (Not a Lamp; Ladylike – Educated; Clio's Conclusion; Nontraditional; Mouth of Babes; Found Family; Rediscovery; Wabi Sabi; Tomorrow's Shade; Unwanted Advice; Odd Feathers; Misshapen Pods; Hot Apple; Uncivil Obedience; Machismo – Soft; Lovely Coconuts; Under the Bridge)  
 **Secondary Bonus Challenges:** SHoE (Oblique)  
 **Space (Prompt):** 4A (Family)  
 **Word Count:** 1954

-= LP =-  
Fairy Tales  
Part 03: Rabbits  
-= LP =-  
"Words have energy and power with the ability to help, to heal, to hinder, to hurt, to harm, to humiliate, and to humble." – Yehuda Berg  
-= LP =-

Harry flinched at the general din of the airport hit him for the first time. For all its busy-ness, Gatwick Airport hadn't been nearly as bad as it was quickly becoming apparent that the New York airport was. After seven hours in a small space with the rest of his schoolmates and complete strangers, Harry longed for the dim quiet of his cupboard. Customs had been muffled; the agents had been efficient and calm. Now he was part of a group of restless children, all of whom didn't have his experience with sitting still and not disturbing adults. Mr. Turner and Ms. Calleywight both looked as exhausted as Harry felt, and they all still had to get to the hotel and dinner.

Maybe it would be considered lunch? Because of the current time?

Either way, Dudley had already started complaining about being hungry, which meant that they had better find something quick before he devolved into a tantrum over it.

He hovered near the teachers as they consulted their notes, knowing that it would reduce the temptation to start up a game of Harry Hunting. He was confident that he could get away, even with his heavy duffle and backpack, but he was just as confident that it would be a bad idea to even try. He had read that the tiny neighborhood they were in—never mind the borough and the rest of the city itself—was larger than the entirety of Little Whinging. He didn't want to risk getting lost.

Since the teachers had moved to the outer edge of the foot traffic, Harry had a clear view of the baggage claim machines. One of them was making a rhythmic clacking sound. He recognized the sound. The merry-go-round at the playpark near Privet Drive made it whenever one of the bolts started coming loose. He glanced at the teachers, who were having a whispered argument over something. Then he checked where the other kids had gotten to—they had all taken seats in the nearby collection of uncomfortable-looking chairs. Shifting his hold on his backpack, Harry began to cautiously drift away from the adults and his duffle.

Sure enough, it was a loose plate on the belt itself.

A hard enough whack at the correct angle should be enough to get it back into place.

Harry watched it go around a few times as he calculated what was needed. He really shouldn't mess with anything. It would be weird if anyone noticed him doing it. Aunt Petunia hated when he did weird things that reminded people that Harry wasn't as _perfectly normal_ as everyone else. The clacking sounded loud in the way it echoed through the space, bouncing off the high ceilings and walls. Fixing it would only take a moment, if he was careful. Harry sat his backpack down between his feet.

The next time the plate came around, Harry struck, hitting it just right to force it back into place.

"Now that's damn impressive."

Harry jumped and spun to face the speaker. His heart rabbited in his chest as he barely managed to keep his feet. He opened his mouth to start making apologies, but the words got stuck in his throat. He desperately scanned the woman for any sign that her words were meant to be mocking. He kept getting stuck on the tight curls sticking out from the top of her head with a lack of pattern that made his hair look like it was finally neat enough for Aunt Petunia.

"Your hair is _green_ ," he said in shock, "and it matches your _lips_."

"Nothing gets by you, does it?" she asked with a smile so big that her teeth showed. It made her brown eyes crinkle around the corners. Harry would have sworn that it was a real smile if it wasn't directed at him. No one was ever that pleased with having to direct attention towards him. The quandary only distracted him a little from the simple stud through the right side of her nose and the trio of silver hoops through the outer curve of both her ears. "They match your eyes. Oh, wowza, that's a brilliant shade of emerald ya got there, short-stack."

Realizing that he had been staring, Harry dropped his gaze towards the ground. On the way down, he noted that she wore a black leather jacket over a lime green top that was tucked into well-worn jeans. There were several splashes of paint in twelve different colors. Her shoes were Converses, just like the previous Doctor's. They were even TARDIS blue. The bright colors looked nice against her dark skin, even if that backdrop made them stand out more than they would have on anyone back in Surrey. The woman was most definitely not someone that his aunt would have liked.

Harry didn't really know her, but he already thought that she was probably the coolest person ever.

"Hey, now," she said, "what's with the sudden shyness, kiddo? Wait, shit. It's the whole 'stranger-danger' thing, ain't it? I knew you were a smart cookie. How else could you have figured out how to fix the baggage machine just by watching for a minute? If you'll come with me back over to your teachers, we can get the boring stuff out of the way."

Harry swung his backpack on properly as he followed the woman towards the teachers. Ms. Calleywight had just started gathering up the other students while Mr. Turner appeared to be on his mobile with someone. Harry broke away from the strange woman to gather up his duffle as Mr. Turner had stepped away from it as he had become more engrossed in his call. Harry didn't think that anyone was going to mistake it for a bomb, given how worn it was, but it had been stressed by the teachers to not leave their luggage on its own. He hurried over to the woman just as she got Ms. Calleywight's attention.

"Is this the Brickman Primary group?" she asked. After receiving a nod from Ms. Calleywight, she continued in a cheery tone, her Irish lilt delicately lifting each syllable. "I'm Dr. Emily Casey. The Jarvis Foundation sent me to be your official greeter. I'm sorry for being late. We're a little run ragged at the moment, as I'm sure you can understand."

"Oh, yes, of course," Ms. Calleywight agreed. She seemed flustered and more than a little shocked. Harry didn't blame her. Dr. Casey certainly didn't look like how he would picture either a doctor or an official greeter from a prestigious organization. "I'm sure you've had a lot on your plates. If you don't mind me asking, what are you a doctor of, exactly?"

"Chemistry," Dr. Casey answered. Harry peeked up through his fringe at her, waiting for her to continue. She gave him another one of those pleased smiles. "I also have a doctorate in Botany. I'm presenting at the Expo, but not until September."

"Engineering," Harry said before he thought about it fully. He could physically feel the sudden weight of everyone's gazes upon him. He swallowed hard as he dropped his own gaze to the ground. He mumbled his explanation to his toes. "You didn't mention your doctorate in Engineering."

"Stupid Potter," grumbled Piers. His voice seemed loud in the sudden bubble of quiet that surrounded them. Harry hunched his shoulders. " _Everyone_ knows that girls can't be engineers."

The rest of Dudley's gang joined Piers' derisive laughter. Harry just hunched his shoulders even more. He shouldn't have said anything. It was stupid, though not for the reason that Piers thought. Dr. Casey was probably trying to avoid that exact reaction and Harry had just brought unnecessary attention to it.

" _Girls_ can be anything they want," Dr. Casey interrupted the laughing boys. Harry froze before slowly raising his gaze again. "Gender does not prevent anyone from any field, _especially science_. I do have a doctorate in Engineering, but it is only an honorary one, because I worked on several projects with Tony Stark. Hence why I didn't mention it."

"I bet she worked on a _project_ with Tony Stark," Dudley whispered loudly, setting off peals of laughter again. Harry felt his brow furrow as he tried to puzzle through how that could have been funny. Normally, Dudley's jokes were very simple to work out, because, well, otherwise Dudley couldn't understand them. But this time Harry had no clue. He wasn't about to ask though. He had already made himself enough of a bother without breaking Aunt Petunia's most important rule. "I bet she worked _real hard_."

"You are aware that I can hear you, right?" Dr. Casey asked blandly. "My ears work perfectly fine. Also, your insinuations are neither new nor original. In fact, they are exceedingly common for someone of my gender and complexion. Now, let's press on, shall we? I don't know how long Happy can drive in circles before he gets stir-crazy."

Dr. Casey led the way through the airport like a queen commanding her entourage. Ms. Calleywight took the front of group with her while Mr. Turner brought up the rear. Harry tried to stick close to Dr. Casey, but her smart takedown of Piers and Dudley had the girls in their class surrounding her to ask questions. He ended up in the between the girls and the boys. Dudley's gang took turns shoving at his back, but he was used to that.

They had just arrived at the curb outside the glass doors when a bus pulled up to the curb. The driver opened the doors before exiting to help pack the back with luggage. As typical, Harry got shuffled to the back of crowd. It made him one of the last people to board the bus, putting him in the seat right by the doors and easily visible to the driver. Fortunately, Dr. Casey plopped into the seat next to him rather than going to where the girls had been saving a spot for her. After a few exchanges to confirm where they were going, Happy pulled away from the curb.

"So you're pretty well-read for a kid," Dr. Casey commented after the rest of the bus had settled into their own conversations. Harry nodded but didn't look up from the backpack in his lap. He fidgeted with the nylon straps. She didn't sound mad like Aunt Petunia or Ms. Calleywight typically did when the subject of his unnatural reading habits came up, but that didn't necessarily mean that she was happy about it either. Mrs. Thatcher had acted happy before Aunt Petunia had explained about how he was a lying cheater. "Do you have a favorite scientist?"

"R. Bruce Banner," Harry said, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Would she be one of the people who insisted on eye contact? Or would she be one of those who preferred he always look down? He took a shaky breath before continuing. "I also like Jane Foster and Jason Wilkes, but Dr. Banner is my favorite. His paper on anti-electron collisions is brilliant. It's a shame that—"

"Ah, yeah, the accident," she supplied when Harry cut himself off to prevent giving away his very-illegal hobby. She clicked her tongue. "That is a shame. I've worked with him and Dr. Ross on the prospectus. That is not something we predicted."

"You know Dr. Banner?" Harry asked, turning his face up to see if he could spot if she was lying. She was smiling again. He was really starting to like that smile. As she began telling him about working alongside different scientists, Harry could almost believe that she truly liked him.

It was a rather nice feeling.

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To be continued  
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	4. Spinner

**Warnings:** This work contains content which may be offensive to some readers. As a content warning, this chapter contains really bad profiling which goes all the way into ableism. There's also implied threat towards a child. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.

 **Author's Note:** So, if you are a fan of Natasha Romanoff in the MCU, you may want to skip out of the story now. In fact, if you're fans of the entirety of SHIELD and the related Team "Cap", I'm really not the author you want to read, because the fics I write that are positive towards them are few & far between.

 **Competition/Challenge Block:**  
 **Stacked with:** Spring Bingo; FPC; Starry Strums; T3  
 **Individual Challenges:** Short Jog (N); Ethnic & Present (N); Seeds (N); Brush (Y); Neurodivergent (N); Quiet Time (N); The Real MC (N); SHIELD MC (N)  
 **Representations:** Natasha Romanoff; Autistic Harry Potter; Emily Casey  
 **Bonus Challenges:** Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; White Dress; Endless Wonder; Odd Feathers; Wabi Sabi; Demo (Nontraditional; Lovely Coconuts; Muck & Slime; Machismo)  
 **Tertiary Bonus Challenges:** T3 (Toad)  
 **Space Address (Prompt):** 3C (Planting/Sowing)  
 **Word Count:** 2205

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Fairy Tales  
Part 04: Spinner  
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"Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly."  
– Morticia Addams  
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If it weren't for the fact that she actually respected the man, Natasha would have happily murdered Fury for giving her this assignment. It had been exciting at first. Stark Industries was notorious for being impossible to infiltrate, with a shockingly high rate of convincing those who try to give up spying for their company of origin and join the obscenely large employee pool outright. Those that didn't betray their orders were quickly found out and removed. Every week she stayed employed but still unbiased was a week that was a testament to her skill and discipline.

Yet it was approaching six months on this assignment and she had yet to gain the access that she required to fulfill her mission objectives. She had barely seen any of the board of directors from down the hall, let alone close enough to gain sensitive information on the plans for the company. She hadn't seen Tony Stark or the legendary Pepper Potts at all. She had burnt through six different SHIELD issued hacking devices trying to get further into the systems than her clearance allowed. To make matters even more annoying, every time she seemed to be getting anywhere with the male supervisors or department heads, they would mysteriously be swapped out for female assistants or managers, ruining all her carefully cultivated efforts.

She missed missions where she got to shoot people. This slow infiltration game was not her style. She did quick honeypots where the goal was to get caught so that she could taze the target or at least taze someone. She wasn't Coulson; she didn't _enjoy_ pretending to be a glorified paper pusher. She really didn't enjoy being relegated to gopher to satisfy the ego-stroking that Stark had decided to waste his money on. The world had been perfectly fine for longer than Stark had been alive without a Stark Expo. It could have continued on without it.

Especially since the man had been funneling much of his fortune into providing the means for every public school in every country with a Stark Industry facility in it (and some that only had contracts for future facilities) to have a short trip to the Expo. Natasha had thought his corporate policies demanding identical benefit packages at all levels and excessive employment pool (twelve to one what similar companies had for the same positions) was atrociously wasteful, but what he was spending on those scholarships had to be bankrupting him.

(She didn't actually know if it was. Accounting had been the third system that she had failed to hack.)

Then Stark decided to disappear only a few weeks before the opening ceremonies and not even SHIELD could locate him. The last time he had gone more than three days without crashing a party, he had just returned from Afghanistan and that had ended with a very public scandal with Obadiah Stane that SHIELD had barely managed to squash.

(Natasha was a little impressed that the reporter with the information had managed to _not disappear_ as well as wrangle an introduction to the president of VistaCorp. She would have loved to be a spider on the wall of that confrontation. Christine Everhart had been on the list for potential recruitment for a while, but Natasha hadn't realized the blonde had any actual skill.)

There was a slight discrepancy in the allotment of personnel that Natasha was following, since Stark and Potts were nowhere to be found. All of the school groups had a liaison who checked in on them periodically, especially during arrival and departure. However, one particular group seemed to have been allotted a rotating schedule of escorts. On paper, the group had nothing outstanding about it. The school was a typical small-town public school with no student of notable wealth, prestige, or intelligence.

Yet they had been assigned not only the rotating escorts but Harold Hogan, who was checked into rooms adjacent theirs.

The same Harold Hogan who had been the head of Tony Stark's personal security detail for the last decade.

Fury wanted her to see what she could gather on the group itself.

Natasha would rather have been following Coulson around the Arctic getting frostbite than dealing with _children_. It still beat fetching coffee, but that didn't mean she wasn't inwardly seething when she approached the current liaison escorting the Brickman group through the lobby of the New York Stark facility. Hogan eyed her from the back of the group, but he didn't say anything as Natasha informed the liaison that she was there to help.

"I wasn't aware that I required an assistant," the woman answered brightly.

 _Too brightly_. Natasha felt her smile stiffen as a sense of foreboding crept up her spine. She had jeans and a blouse that shifted between a dark blue and a green that matched her wild curls. On her feet was a type of shoe that Natasha didn't recognize because they weren't heels or useful in combat. The shoes matched the blue of the shirt. In the last six months, Natasha had seen no one dressed so unprofessionally at SI.

"I just go where they tell me," Natasha replied, careful to keep her tone from falling flat. The woman smiled at her. Natasha couldn't help feeling a bit threatened.

"Well, then," the woman agreed, "maybe they thought you might enjoy a tour of my department, Miss…"

"Rushman, ma'am," Natasha answered. "Natalie Rushman."

She didn't miss how Hogan touched his earwig as he turned away slightly to mask his moving lips. Natasha wasn't worried. SHIELD excelled at thoroughness when it came to their aliases, and this one had held solid for nearly six months. If it had held through the background check that SI did when it hired Natalie Rushman, there was nothing to worry about Hogan having someone pull her employment file. She had even managed to get officially assigned to helping with tours today.

There was nothing to worry about, but Natasha still felt on edge as she joined the group. She drifted towards the back, better to view the children themselves. The girls drifted towards the front, vying for the attention of the tour guide who indulged their questions with a patience that would have made a saint jealous. The boys in the group alternated between laughing at the girls' questions or jostling each other, as boys naturally do. There truly didn't seem to be anything remarkable about the group, unless one counted the miracle that was the one boy who was wider than he was tall and somehow still alive.

That boy's ego was nearly as large as Stark's. Natasha entertained the idea that he was Stark's secret love-child for exactly as long as it took for the kid to open his mouth. As arrogant as Stark was, the _genius_ part of his bragging was not as large an exaggeration as it would take for the Dursley kid to be a Stark. She had seen clay pigeons with more intelligence than the nonsense that came out of the kid.

Oh, well, at least Natasha was able to discreetly plant a few bugs as they worked their way through the R&D department. That kept the time from being a total waste.

It wasn't until the group had reached the engineering section of the department that Natasha noticed the kid. She might not have noticed him at all if he hadn't grabbed one of the many fire extinguishers stationed about the area only seconds before someone's project caught fire. The extinguisher was nearly as large as his torso, yet he wielded it both competently and familiarly. Most tellingly, the kid refused to meet anyone's eyes as he explained in a string of techno-babble why he had reached for the extinguisher before there had been any flames.

Natasha almost scoffed out loud when everyone seemed to buy the kid's story when he was obviously lying. He had all the signs that even a civilian should be able to recognize: not meeting anyone eyes, shifting his weight constantly, alternating between fidgeting with his hands and keeping them completely still, tone shifting between flatly disinterested and panicky earnestness. Not only was Casey and Hogan buying the kid's story about "just noticing an error", but Casey especially seemed intent to feed into the kid's display of emotion.

Just as she was thinking about how ridiculous the dramatics were, Casey's eyes suddenly fixed on her. Natasha felt trapped under the other woman's gaze. It was not unlike the look that one of the teachers back in the Red Room had used when the students had misbehaved, not angry so much as hardened with protective disappointment.

"Do you have something to add, Ms. Rushman?"

"He's lying," she answered, obeying the command that would have laced those words with Yasha or Coulson. Casey raised one eyebrow and pursed her dark green lips. Natasha took a deep breath and shifted positions before explaining. "His body language screams it, ma'am. He can't stand still, and his tone keeps shifting. He can't meet anyone's eye. All indications point towards dishonesty."

"Of course, the little freak is lying," agreed the Dursley kid loudly. "He does it all the time back home."

Not surprisingly, even the teachers escorting the group were nodding their own agreements. Between Casey and Hogan, the boy dropped his head between his suddenly hunched shoulders. He obviously knew that he had been busted. Casey's cheek twitched minutely at the brash words, though her dark eyes never left Natasha. Despite that, she seemed perfectly aware of everything around her, even going so far as to lay her hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezing just enough that he didn't escape when he jerked away from the touch.

"What department did you say you were with, Ms. Rushman?"

"I'm in the paralegal pool."

"I'm going to leap to the obvious conclusion that you did not understand Mr. Potter's explanation then, given that it was extremely technical. Perhaps you need some assistance." Casey waved the man whose project had been ruined closer. He straightened immediately, leaving the foam-covered remains on his workstation. "Lucas—Dr. Hall, can you shed any light on how accurate Mr. Potter's assessment was?"

"Uh, well, see," Dr. Hall stammered, adjusting his glasses before rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't take into consideration some of the things he mentioned, which is rather embarrassing given how obvious they are now that they were pointed out and, you know, the _fire_ , but Mr. Potter's assessment was spot on. Not to mention impressive how fast he was able to make it. That's almost more impressive than how much disaster he managed to divert by acting so quickly. Like, all of the disaster, because he didn't mention that my calibration was off enough that another fifteen seconds on fire would have triggered the floor's containment protocols, which, well, _a bit not good_ , ma'am."

" _Breathe_ , Lucas," Casey commanded gently. "Nothing happened this time, though we're gonna talk later about how to improve the alarms I know you set to keep from working on such projects during a tour."

"Uh, yeah," Dr. Hall agreed, flushing, "I kind of worked through them. Also, can I borrow Mr. Potter for a moment? I want to ask for clarification on something he said about the frequency?"

Casey gave Potter's shoulder a little shake to pull his attention toward her. The boy gave it, though the wideness of his eyes betrayed his confusion. Casey smiled indulgently down at him as Natasha tried to figure out why the kid still refused to actually look his defender in the eye, even when Casey tweaked his nose between her dark fingers.

"Would you be willing to help Dr. Hall for a bit, short-stack?"

Potter nodded. But when he turned away, he held out his fist towards Hogan. The bodyguard looked confused but bumped his own fist against Potter's tiny one. Potter shook his head and used his other hand to turn over Hogan's fist to open it. Natasha recognized the sound of SHIELD issued bugs bumping against each other as Potter opened his fist to drop them onto Hogan's palm.

"The frequency caused the cascade in Dr. Hall's device," Potter said flatly as Natasha began silently seething. She could see that the little brat had picked up every bug she had managed to plant during the tour. "I was going to give them to you at the end of the tour, sir, because I wanted to get all the ones Ms. Rushman left behind. But I really shouldn't take them close again, not if Dr. Hall is right about the cascade being not good."

"Thanks, kiddo." Hogan ruffled Potter's hair, earning himself several blinks out of the kid. "You go have fun with the doc." He looked over at Natasha with a dangerously pleasant smile. "I'll take care of these and Ms. Rushman."

Natasha had never wished for her Widow Bites more than as she watched the kid wander away as if he hadn't just ruined her entire mission. She didn't even have an answer about why this particular school group was getting special attention or what Stark hoped to achieve by bankrupting himself.

She definitely should have begged to follow Coulson around the Arctic.

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To be continued  
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End file.
